Scott Fell, He Fell For Jean
by Assassin For Hire
Summary: Now that we've got your attention...THE SEQUEL TO "KISSING CLAY"! Scott climbs a cliff! Jean hovers in from behind! Ooh, such excitement! Review us...okay? :)


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**SCOTT FELL, HE FELL FOR JEAN**

(continuing the story of "Kissing Clay")

The exciting new chapter in the lives of...well, our Scott and Jean.

as written in ROLEPLAY by  
**kabanas** (Krista) and **FataMorgana** (Jessica)

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**DISCLAIMER:** Visor Boy played by Kris. Poncey redhead played by Jess. Might wanna read "Kissing Clay" to understand some of this stuff...

So, it should be obvious by now that most of what we write is roleplay. It also shouldn't take a rocket scientist to realize that our favorite characters are Cyclops and Phoenix. Speaking of which, Scott and Jean aren't ours. They belong to Marvel. Not to us! To Marvel... NOT TO US! To Marvel... Even though Jess and I take MUCH better care of them. (We even dress them nicely.) Ignore the inside jokes. That's what eventually builds when you've been RPing with someone for over a year. Comments are greatly appreciated as always. We're raging hookers for your support like that. Thank you... :

  
  
**A few days after raking and clay pigeons and Scott's recovery from bruises inflicted upon him by his wife during the latter activity thereof...**

**Cyclops  
**Blackened eyes, bloodstained hands. A snowstorm outside, a Sahara in here. Scott Summers' world is upside down. Two hundred feet to the ground and panting steadily, all of his focus is concentrated into gripping the rock for dear life. Suspended by his knuckles, Cyclops is in a Danger Room simulation set for rock-climbing a near-vertical drop cliff face.

Beside him, some twenty feet away, is a gaping crevice separating the wall like a swelling tear in the earth. He has been working on his upper body technique for the past hour now. When someone drops in on Scott, he's -always- been "working for the past hour now."

A chalk bag, rainbow-colored carabiners, and slings hang from his waist. He disliked descending from the top by way of pendulum jumps. It proved much more of a challenge for him to crawl his way back down, always taking a different route than the one he took to get to the top. Securing his foothold on a wedge in the rock no bigger than a fist, Scott testily balances his weight up with one hand while he unbuckles a biner to secure his next position. Rock secured. 

The dark form high in the air can be seen slightly leaning back to sit on his weight, some ten years of rock climbing experience behind him. Behind him, the pounding Arizona sun glistens his bare back a tan, even coat of sweat. Deep navy utility board shorts and expensive marigold climbing shoes are the only thing decorating the field leader's figure. The rest of him, a sculpture of muscle as rock-hard as the cliff he's climbing, is being born anew under the noon sun. 

**Phoenix**  
A new feature to the program pokes her head over the top of the cliff face and peers down at the straining Cyclops. "Working for the past hour now" meant, if you couldn't find Cyclops anywhere else, check the Danger Room. Although, you obviously didn't live here if you didn't think to check the Danger Room in the -first- place. She had evil thoughts of making this program harder for him and his upper body strength. 

He did, after all, marry a sadist. A gorgeous sadist at that. Clad in fitted black pants, a V-neck black tanktop (the mansion was always kept very warm in the winter), her long red hair hanging almost to her waist, even braided. Heeled boots scruff lightly across the rocks of the aforementioned crevice. Time to have a little fun. Stepping off the ledge, a barely visible magenta sheen keeps the redhead aloft. 

Dropping the twenty-some feet, she folds her arms, levitating by her husband's side.

"Just checking to make sure you put on sunscreen," she jests, glancing out across the canyon.

If she intended to jab him for his choice of the DR for the afternoon's activities, she'd have to look to herself first. She'd tackled this same program once or twice herself. She wasn't as good at it as he was, but it was fun. 

**Cyclops **keeps his tongue in check, tossing a reproachful look over his shoulder at his wife instead. Of course he knew it was his wife. Before the taunting voice even came near to breathing that remark, he had felt his already straining heart skip a beat at her entrance. They're married like that. 

Scott continues on his search for the next foot holding and small crevice to implant his carabiner.

"Come to distract the innocent, sweetheart?" he comments, a corner of his lips lifting. "I could use a hand, actually."

But just when she thinks he's talking about something innocent, like his climbing...

"Don't have a water bottle around, do you?" Smirk. 

**Phoenix**  
"Huh! Don't look so happy to see me," she replies to the look, merely toying.

And actually, since she wasn't -really- sadistic and she flat out adores her Scott, she smiles widely. Did she look like she had a water bottle handy?

"I must have left it in my other uniform," Jean says, hands on her SLIM hips. With a sassy flip of her braid, she adds, "But I could find you one, Mr. Innocent." 

**Cyclops** does that, "Mmm..." growl of pensiveness practiced so well by the Summers bloodline. Scott continues moseying down with only a steel clamp and the strength of his locking joints to anchor him to the wall. He wanted to be down on the ground within the next ten minutes. He's succeeded so far, and has but a quarter left of the rock to descend. 

"You being here is refreshing enough," he answers frankly, which basically asked her to stay. "Why? Wanted to best me at rock climbing too, baby?" 

**Phoenix  
**"Y'know," Jean begins, one hand moving from her hip to gesture animatedly along with her words, "I know you're going to totally get off this, but I'll admit defeat on that one. I nearly fell to my doom twice last week. So much for training without powers," she smirks ruefully. 

**Cyclops** chuckles.

"Ah, she -is- trying to distract me..." he thinks aloud, schooling his face inward so he doesn't betray his amusement inside.

"Am I hearing correctly?" Wedge.

"Red is admitting defeat?"

Rest secured. Click. Now, a prevalent frown.

"Baby, you know I don't like it when you DR a climb by yourself... I should have been there."

Rolling his shoulders back, Scott decides upon that moment to rest, momentarily sitting back on his weight. Almost there... 

**Phoenix** smiles softly. His concern always made her feel so very loved.

"Sorry, sweetheart."

Her apology was genuine--she felt badly for worrying him.

"But really, villains and tough situations won't always accommodate that, will they?"

She didn't mean to imply that he wouldn't be there when she needed him, but that she wanted to be able to rely on her own abilities if she were on her own and in a bind. 

**Cyclops** can both smell and feel the difference in the altitude drop. He was no longer dizzy with mountain sickness--the feeling of nausea a person is overwhelmed with by the loss of oxygen at high altitudes.

"Not always, no."

Gritting his teeth, the muscles across Scott's back ripple like cranks and levers at his gradual, straining movements. His calves have been stretched to their limit and are working double overtime to keep him afloat on two small rocky protrusions. His lungs expanded as he breathed in the sight of the picturesque plateaus in the distance, smelling freedom. God, this was the single most strenuous exercise he knew. Well...aside from dodging clay pigeons from that gorgeous gal over there. "Although, I'd sure as heck enjoy anyone who tried to stop me." His mind kept quiet about his next thought. "Not excluding you..."

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Gahhh! What happens next?? Why'd we stop here?

It's because Jess and I decided to leave you

hanging 'til next the next ish, of course.

(Actually, we got tired in the middle of writing and stopped. *cackle*)

**Be here for Chapter Four!**

In the meantime...how are we doing so far?

Review makes us happy! Will write for review! :


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